To begin with, Sir Harry announced at breakfast that he must go and buy a horse.

He might be an hour or two over the business, and meanwhile the boys had better go out into the town and enjoy themselves.

Perhaps a sovereign apiece might help them.
Taffy, who had never in his life possessed more than a shilling, was staring at the gold piece in his hand, when the door opened, and Sir Harry's horse-racing friend came in to breakfast and nodded "Good-morning." "Pity you're leaving to-day," he said, as he took his seat at a table hard by them.
"My revenge must wait," Sir Harry answered.
It seemed a cold-blooded thing to be said so carelessly.
Taffy wondered if Sir Harry's search for a horse had anything to do with this revenge, and the notion haunted him in the intervals of his morning's shopping.
But how to lay out his sovereign?
That was the first question.
George, who within ten minutes had settled his own problem by purchasing a doubtful fox-terrier of the Boots of the hotel, saw no difficulty.

The Boots had another pup for sale--one of the same litter.
"But I want something for mother, and the others--and Honoria." "Botheration! I'd forgotten Honoria, and now the money's gone! Never mind; she can have my pup." "Oh!" said Taffy ruefully.

"Then she won't think much of my present." "Yes, she will.